Honoring Richard Lainhart

Our friend Richard Lainhart died quite unexpectedly last week. Writing about Richard is a bit like talking about art: words seem far too monochromatic to describe someone as precious, sublime and complex as was Richard.

Instead of trying to quantify the multidimensional facets of Richard's wonderful life, I want you to know how much we are already missing his generous and gentle spirit. I, personally, feel an emptiness that is very hard to describe. It has something to do with taking for granted the idea that he would always be here. Got a problem? Richard had a solution. Puzzled about an arcane technical question? I called Richard ...because he always knew the answer. It's strange to think that in a world of unlimited, online information, Richard was my most steady and reliable source.

We shared a love of sound and synthesis. Watching Richard conjure up his organic electronic textures from his awesome Buchla was a bit like being a spectator at The Creation itself. Bubbling forth from his sonic brew were primordial universes, expanding and contracting like the forces of nature, and beyond. Truly magnificent.

In the months and weeks before he left this world, we had been trying to get together to improvise with the goal of, perhaps, performing together. I had to cancel a couple of scheduled rehearsals, as did he. This, I am quite sure, is going to be one of my deepest regrets.

Thank you Richard for all the goodness you brought into the world through your spirit and your music. Peace.

I'm very sorry for your loss. Your note about Richard is a beautiful tribute for which I thank you for sharing. You've honored your friend well during a time where deep sadness and shock must be ever present.

Your thoughtful note has prompted me to reach out to my close friend and co-worker of over 20 years and remind him how much his friendship means to me, and thank him for sharing his brilliance over the years and how I hope he doesn't feel taken for granted.

May I add that it appears we've both been blessed knowing true renaissance men.

I've had the wonderful opportunity to work with Richard a number of times throughout the years, and he was always a consummate professional and a wonder to be around. He had that rare juxtaposition of being immensely creative, composing masterful and beautiful sonic soundscapes, while at the same time being incredibly technically inclined. Of course, he was a wonderful teacher, too. I've never met anyone who had such a combination of skills...nor such a deep technical knowledge. Something's broken and production has halted. Phone Richard. We need to get this ancient piece of gear working with the current workflow. Phone Richard. He'd get in there, string a cable or two, maybe crawl around for a bit under the console, twist a few knobs, and as if he'd sprinkled some magic techie-dust or something, the damn thing would miraculously work!

None of us knew how he did it. We'd all just look at each other and shrug. Who knows how he got things back up and running but he did. "No problem," he'd say with a smile. And off he'd go.

I know there are many, many people who are affected by his passing, and I'd like to take the opportunity to pass along my condolences. I only wish I'd had the chance to know Richard better. His passing is a reminder of how fragile life is, and how quickly it can be turned upside down. To fill our time here, while we have it, as Richard did...with those we love, doing the things we love.

I got to know Richard only through his two tutorials, which I bought last year and which I enjoy every time I play them. I find them very useful and inspiring. His pleasant voice and pace lifts the whole learning experience to a new level. The thought that he is no longer among us to share his passion for music and vast knowledge on the subject makes me sad. I wish I had the chance to meet him in person.

Thank you MPV for inviting Richard to be one of your leading trainers!